My mother, Sarah Ellen Barker, was born in North Ogden, Utah, on June 17, 1865. Her parents, William Barker and Mary Ann Holt, were pioneers among the earliest settlers in Weber County. She was just the opposite of my father in many respects. Where he loved to talk and tell tales of the past, and argue politics, she was quiet and retiring. Where he loved to be in the limelight, making his views know, she was satisfied to sit quietly in the background. She had been a beautiful girl, small in stature, with blue eyes and black hair and a fine figure. She was still a beautiful woman to the end of her days. Although I have no memory of the black hair as she became gray quite young. She was a patient woman, sweet and kind, with smiling eyes and pleasant expression on her face.

I don’t know too much about her childhood. About the only thing I remember her speaking of was about when the Indians used to come to the door, wrapped up in their blankets, asking for food. They were never turned away empty handed no matter how small their store was.

Mother had a small sweet voice, true in tone, and sometimes she sang the old songs to us; songs such as “Stay Home Boys, Stay Home on the Farm” and “Open the Window, Mother Darling”, and of course she sang lullabies to all the babies that came along.

She too had great respect for her parents. When she spoke of them as “Mother” and “Father” her love and reverence for them showed in the very tone of her voice.

Personally, I never heard her speak of the dances she went to as a young woman, but once in a news interview published as part of Pioneer Week she mentioned it to the reporter. She said the dances were a high point in everyone’s lives. People came from miles around, bringing lunches with them, for the dancing went on for hours. They danced jigs and square dances, very fast and lively.

Mother went to school in an old one-room rock structure which served as the center for many social activities. One night, after a singing practice had been held there, the building caught fire and burned down.

She married my father, Joseph Ezra Taylor, when she was 19 years of age, in the Endowment House in Salt Lake. They were the parents of 12 children. The oldest child, Ella May, married when she was 17; Mother was still a young woman and she and my sister had several children about the same age.

Mother outlived my father by just over two years. They were both born in the month of June and both died in the month of May; he on May 5, 1943, age 82, and she on May 23, 1945, age 79. At the time of her death she had 8 sons and daughters living: 39 grandchildren and 21 great-grandchildren. She is buried in the family plot in the Ogden City Cemetery in Ogden, Utah.